Tracking a Ghost: Tracer's Origin Story
by Vigilantia
Summary: Sitting across from her interviewer, Lena recounts the long story that led her to become Overwatch's newest and quickest heroine.


_**Tracking a Ghost: Tracer's Origin Story**_

_**Chapter 1**_

_**- Lena's 60 Minutes -**_

The interviewer adjusted his positioning in the leather padded seat, smoothing out his navy blue suit and striped tie. Around him were stacked shelves upon shelves of books that lined one side of the wall with a gas fireplace near his desk that provided a warm ambience. It wasn't like the real wood fires of his childhood, but he'd always found the flickering flames gave a comforting sense of tranquility when he looked at them.

The posh office wasn't his idea originally, but Director Wilhelm had insisted for his "twenty-five years of exemplary service to Overwatch."

Seated across from him was Overwatch's new rising star, Lena "Tracer" Oxton. She took off her her brown bomber jacket and gloves before relaxing back into her chair. Despite what the publicity vids showed, Lena was actually taller than most people expected. It was the simple fact that her size was dwarfed by most of the other heroes on active duty, the majority of which wore heavy metal suits that made Lena look small by comparison. Power armour often did that, Philip had found.

Faint wrinkles appeared upon his face as he smiled and shook hands with his guest.

"Well then, it's good to see you again Lena. After you left in a rush I figured it would take quite some time to reschedule this interview. Thanks for taking the time to meet again so soon."

"Good to be 'ere, Philip," said Tracer, "Sorry bout leaving you last time, but when the Director asks for your help, ya don't really turn 'im down."

"Of course," he said, giving an understanding smile. "Reinhardt can be a very imposing man if you're not used to it."

Philip continued on. "Now, before we continue with the debriefing, is there anything I can get you? I know you guys like your tea. I've got orange pekoe in the pot but I could get you some of the more of that expensive Chinese stuff somewhere if…"

"No no, it's fine," she said, holding both hands upward with a nervous yet bright smile.

Picking up the pot of tea on the coffee table, Phllip filled up two mugs of fresh steaming hot tea. "Well then, continuing on from before. We were talking about what happened on that fateful day."

Tracer nodded. She leaned back against her seat as she remembered. "Almost impossible to forget, a near perfect day for flying. No sun, but the sky was bright blue with nary a cloud in sight."

* * *

><p><em>- Six Months Ago -<em>

Captain Lena "Tracer" Oxton looked at the green fields of Buckinghamshire flying past below her, the flowing scenery flashing past her canopy. Above her lay the open blue skies and her domain. Exhaling her breath, she forced her abdomen and legs to tense before pulling up on the Slipstream fighter's controls. The horizon disappeared from her view as the fighter aircraft pitched up, sending several Gs of pressure against her body. She admired the rotating world outside her canopy window before returning the aircraft back to its original heading.

She gave a sigh of relief before grinning. This was what she lived for, the speed and freedom of the skies. There just wasn't anything else like it on the ground.

A voice came from her helmet.

"SS01, please maintain your current heading. You're giving R&D quite a scare with those sensor readings," said Control. She recognized the familiar Texan drawl of Major Sharp, Slipstream's project lead.

"Confirm, Wycombe Tower. We wouldn't want that, now would we? " she replied in a chipper tone.

"SS01, you'll recall initial airframe stress testing was last week. Stick with today's test plan, please," said Control. From his tone Lena could practically hear the man sigh.

"Understood," Lena replied.

She supposed she should _just_ stick to the plan today. After all, this was the big day she'd actually get to use the new Slipstream drive. She looked at the circular device installed smack dab in the middle of the cockpit. Truth be told, it didn't look like anything more than just a big clunky holo display at the moment but she knew from the amount of brass that had passed through the base that it was anything but a joke.

"SS01. All readings appear optimal on our side. You may proceed with the test when ready. Out," said Sharp.

Like the techies had shown her, she flicked off the safety on the instrument panel and the device itself before pulling the drive's activation handle forward. There was a shudder across the jet as the device hummed to life and then a ripple, like a shockwave spreading through water, engulfed the entire plane. The circular core activated and its center flashed on, glowing and dimming in intensity.

"Wycombe tower. Slipstream drive is now activated. Everything's lookin' good so far..." she reported.

"Confirm. We're receiving data from the sensors now," replied Control, "airspace is clear and all conditions appears optimal. You are go for Slipstream jump, SS01."

"Roger that. See you on the other side," she said.

Tracer tapped several of the holographic buttons and set the Slipstream fighter's destination. She tapped the activation icon and waited for the drive to spool up. She watched as the Slipstream drive began to glow bright enough that it seemed like the sun had hid itself inside her cockpit.

"SS01, status report. Some of the sensor data..." said Control before the radio cut out. For a moment she thought she heard frantic yelling in the background.

"Say again all after the word 'data'?" asked Lena. She felt her chest constrict at the sudden silence. That didn't sound at all good.

"Deactivate the slipstream drive," came Sharp's voice, the radio channel tinged with static.

"Wilco," Lena replied into her mic. She pulled back on the activation handle. Nothing. The device continued to glow and even seemed to increase in power. She flicked the safeties back on with the same result and felt that void in her chest turn into a chasm.

"Wycombe tower… the uh, it's not shuttin' off. Power's off and safeties back on but it's still active," she said. There was an uncomfortably long pause as Lena waited for the tower to get back to her.

"SS01, our readings are going everywhere. Suggest you hit the emergency shutdown. Now!" yelled Sharp through the heavy radio static.

Major Conrad Sharp wasn't a man that was easy to startle. The Major always held a relaxed demeanor that seemed to take an extra few seconds to mull over facts in his head before speaking. In fact, in the six months since she'd joined Project Slipstream she couldn't recall him ever rushing for anything let alone getting angry, which was why the panicked urgency in his voice caused her blood to run cold.

Lena reached down toward the drive and pushed the emergency shutoff switch, only to see her arm pass through the plane as if it weren't there. Her breath caught in her throat and eyes opened in shock as she simply stared at her arm which was currently halfway through the cockpit. Pulling her hand out, she tried shutting down the Slipstream drive again with the same result. She could '_touch_' it, but the moment she placed any pressure on it, her hand phased through.

Her mind froze as it tried to come to terms with what she'd just seen. She forced herself to breathe and tried to calm her pounding heart.

_In and out. In and out. Just breathe, Lena. _

"Tower... umm.. me arms can go through the cockpit," reported Lena blankly.

It took Control a long moment to respond. "SS01, say again?" he said, bewildered.

"I…" she began to say.

Lena paused when she saw her gloved hand fade from sight. Her stomach dropped as if she'd went into freefall. She brought both hands upward and watched as they seemed to flicker and fade like some old neon pub sign. In the background, the familiar roar of the Slipstream's engine began to disappear from her ears.

"SS01. Report," ssaid Control. "What's your status?"

Her throat felt as dry as parchment as she spoke. "Sir, " said Lena. "I don't know. It's like I'm fading away. Disappearing… Please, sir. You've got to do something. Help me!"

"SS01, just calm down," he replied. His voice was level once again but she could hear his stress and nervousness when he spoke. "We have aircraft heading to your position and the research team is doing everything they can. Just stay with me."

His voice seemed far in the distance now. Blinking back tears, she watched as her body began to turn as translucent as the canopy window.

"Sir, tell me mum and brother I love them and… sorry for leavin' without sayin' goodbye," she said. Lena looked upward at the skies above her, watching as the blue skies faded disappeared from her sight.

"SS01, are you still there? SS01? Tracer? Tracer!" yelled Sharp.

However, by that time Lena Oxton was already gone; vanished into the ether. A while later, the XT-01 Slipstream fighter clipped several trees before crashing and exploding in a nearby field. There were no other casualties, but Captain Oxton was presumed dead.

* * *

><p>"And what was that experience like? What were you thinking when it happened?" asked Philip. Leaning over the coffee table between them, he refilled his guest's mug of tea, before returning to writing notes on a pad.<p>

"Quite frankly? T'was terrifying. Would have wet me pants if I could. At the time, I thought about those poor sods in bi-planes back in World War I. If their plane caught fire, they could either burn or take the quick way out and shoot 'emselves with their revolvers… except I couldn't even do that. I felt hopelessly trapped," said Tracer.

"And what about afterward? When you disappeared," he asked.

Rubbing her chin, she thought for a moment. "It... was… warm. And floaty," she replied.

Phillip coughed up his tea. "I'm sorry?" he said.

"Well, Winston mentioned something about how having Chronal Disassociation meant the ambient temperature doesn't affect your body anymore, so the only heat I could feel was from myself… which felt warm I suppose. It kinda felt like floating in a pool actually.

"I see..." Phillip asked. "And afterwards when you came back?"

"I'm not completely sure. Exley was the one that found me. You'd have to ask 'im what happened," Lena said.

Phillip gave a long, drawn out sigh before leaning back against his chair. "Agent Exley… Yeah, I'm sure I'll have great luck with that."

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: For Tracer's accent, I'll ease off or add more when I believe it's needed. Hopefully, you'll remember it's there but it's not overpowering and confusing.<p> 


End file.
